Body Shots
by ricca
Summary: Christina teaches Tris about body shots; against all better judgment Eric gets involved. No war, no divergence, no plot. F/F/M.


**A/N: So once upon a time, there was a fantastic Firefly fic with this self-same title by The Frisky Firelily and it was amazing. I don't know why it occurred to me now, but it was an enormous inspiration to this. It's very different from other things I've written before, but it's meant to be a piece of pure self-indulgence, so any enjoyment you get out of this is purely bonus.**

 **Special warning for OT3 F/F/M, making decisions of a sexual nature while intoxicated, possible OOC, and a real serious lack of any sort of plot. This is just for my fun to blow off steam, if it won't be fun for you I respect your opinions and you can go back to those other things you like instead.**

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There was no point in worrying who might be watching in Dauntless – rampant exhibitionism and the perpetual desire to prove oneself brave meant that any audience was looking on more for inspiration than to pass judgement or condemnation. That's what Tris hoped anyway, as Christina rapped her knuckles on the bar and hollered, over the music, over the dozens of other voices talking, laughing, shouting, "Terry! I wanna do shots!"

Tris eyed her friend, the bright flush on her bronze cheeks, the slightly manic smile in her dark eyes and counted the three 'extra-dirty' martinis consumed in the last half hour. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Scared?" Christina raised a challenging eyebrow and then banked on the scarred wood counter again, "Terry! Tris wants some, too!"

"I'm not-" The miniature glasses bumped gently against her elbow and she craned her neck back to look up at the hulking, shirtless, bartender. He winked at her and then left to attend to another half-drunk shout for beer.

"Then it shouldn't be a problem!" Christina cut off the protest with a wicked grin and held her thimble up.

Tris rolled her eyes, but she lifted the first shot carefully, touching it to the rim of Christina's own, and after a second's hesitation threw the colorless, odorless liquid back. It burned, a harsh chemical fire that raged in her throat and she gasped.

"Here," Something cold and sour was shoved between her lips and Tris bit down reflexively, her eyes watering.

The citrus helped soothe her throat and Tris blinked the tears out of her eyes as she regained her equilibrium, looking up at Christina's look of triumph, puckering around a lime of her own. "That. Was. Awesome!"

Tris spit out the chewed remains of her lime, wedging the rind into her empty shot glass. "Nasty," She disagreed.

"Tequila," Christina countered as though that settled the debate permanently. "It's not supposed to be sipped and savored."

"Then what's the point?" Tris shook her head and tried to catch a bartender's eye for another beer. It didn't work.

"Fun!" Christina grinned and refused to acknowledge Tris' disinterest. "Here. How about this? I will 'sip and savor'" She sneered at the phrase, "a damn shot of Tequila if…" She tapped a nail against her chin, "If you do a body shot."

"A what?" The term was unfamiliar and faintly ominous sounding.

"Nuh-uh, I'm not telling you until you say yes!" Christina danced away as Tris cocked her arm to punch the other woman in the shoulder. "Come on Tris, live a little."

"I am living. I would like to continue to do so." Tris pouted, but Christina could talk her into almost anything, and this was no different. "Fine. What do I do?"

Christina wrinkled her nose, "Maybe it's just easier if I show you; I saw it on the net last week." She leaned back on her stool and stole the salt shaker sitting between Eric and Peter at a nearby table.

The two men glanced up at the sudden intrusion, "What the hell are you doing." Coming from Eric, it wasn't a question.

"Shots," Christina rolled her eyes at their leader as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Okay, Tris, turn towards me. Sit up straight and don't move, okay? Here," She reached around Tris and grabbed another lime wedge out of the dish on the bar.

She had always trusted Christina. God knew the other woman wasn't perfect, she could be flighty, selfish, narcissistic, but she had never, ever led Tris too far astray or hurt her, and had stood up against the world for her. She bit down on the rind of the lime as instructed, wrinkling her nose against the odd taste.

"That's good, my good girl," Christina cooed, right before tugging the neckline of Tris' shirt down a few inches. Tris squawked around the lime and Christina stopped, stepped back with her hands up, and asked with a serious sobriety, "Are you okay?"

There were eyes on her, so many eyes watching the spectacle unfold that there was only one answer to give. Tris nodded, unable to stop her eyes flicking to Eric's impassive stare before meeting Christina's.

"Okay, good. That would have been awkward. Almost done now." She flourished the salt shaker, dusting the exposed skin of Tris' neck and clavicle liberally before setting it down and lifting her remaining glass to the small crowd of onlookers who weren't so distracted by their own amusements to notice two pretty girls at the bar.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" Peter's voice rang out, slurred and amused.

"Shut up, Hayes, this isn't about you." Christina snapped at her rival and with extra, exaggerated care, balanced the glass in the narrow expanse of Tris' cleavage. The oily liquid rippled and then stilled. "Alright, baby, this is a body shot." She placed a warm, slightly clammy hand against the back of Tris' neck, then with lightning speed ran her tongue along Tris' neck, grabbed the shot back and slammed it down. More gently, slowly, she brought her face up to Tris', fingers tangling in the long blond ponytail, and closed her lips over the flesh of the lime.

Christina smelled of gin and olives, tequila and limes, and her lips were soft as she bit into the lime Tris held obediently in her mouth, a small trickle of juice escaping down her lip. The burn eased, she drew her head back and smirked down at the thunderstruck former member of Abnegation as she plucked the spent lime away. "That's a body shot. Your turn. Or do I need to do my part first?"

That was absolutely nothing like anything Tris had ever encountered, much less imagined. The feeling of Christina's fingers in her hair, lips against hers lingered as heavy and intoxicating as her first shot of tequila had been. "Ah," she managed to articulate, and then shook herself. "I don't quite think I followed?"

"You need a demonstration, Stiff?" A low, dark voice drawled uncomfortably close by, and Tris craned her neck to look up at the leader of Dauntless.

"I volunteer!" Peter hollered from somewhere behind him. "Dude, move, don't be a hog."

Christina was doing that thing, the shifting of the stance that meant she was about to plant her hands on her hip and raise total hell for them all. Tris cut it off with a shake of her head, eyes sliding off her friends and onto their leader. She managed a small nod, "Yes."

"Really? Creepy Eric?" Christina rested her palms over her hips and didn't actually look all that disgusted by the prospect. "The things I do for you."

"Shut up and get on the counter." Eric's voice was a little huskier than normal, and his smirk slightly less malicious as he scooped Christina up and deposited her on the open stretch of space.

Christina was grinning, lying back on the surface of the bar and lifting the hem of her shirt, exposing a lean brown stomach. Hands trembling, Tris offered a fresh lime wedge to the pink gloss lips, "Thanks, sweetie," She managed to lick the tip of Tris' fingers as the fruit was placed in her mouth and gave Eric a cheeky wink and a thumbs up.

"You should know tjat you are one crazy bitch," It sounded like a compliment as he flipped the salt shaker over her stomach and then placed the closest shot on her navel, watching it balance precariously. "Pay attention, Stiff." He barked, and then added so only Tris could hear, "This one's for you." Leisurely, as though he wasn't the complete and total center of attention, Eric placed a heavily tattooed arm over Christina's hips and licked slowly, teasing, along the ridge where her hipbone jutted out. He barely seemed to need his hands as he popped the shot glass off its perch and emptied it down his throat, tattoos rippling as he swallowed. His eyes connected with Tris' as he bent over Christina, close as lovers, and bit into the lime. It was too intense, too perfect to watch, and Tris had to cross her legs to stifle the uncomfortable, hot, itchy feeling and look away as he straightened. "That's a body shot."

"I need a drink," Christina gasped out, jackknifing into a sitting position and latching onto Terry's arm. "Or do I need to act on my part of the challenge first?"

The bartender looked on, amused, as Tris weighed her options. "I'll do it." Her stomach roiled, but that was probably just the last tequila shot. She ignored it.

Christina's grin stretched until it threatened to tear her face in two. She actually hopped up and down and clapped her hands in excitement before getting ahold of herself. "Off Eric, it's only fair."

"What?" The response came from both Eric and Tris. Tris blushed scarlet.

"Yes it is. He's the only one who hasn't had to get salty yet."

"I haven't!" Peter was still hanging around in the general vicinity.

Christina nodded, mock serious. "That's true. Eric or Peter, Tris, your choice."

It wasn't really a choice at all, and Tris glanced up at Eric and nodded, faintly, again. "Eric."

The blond leader snorted in amusement, "Whatever." With a smirk he took the barstool Christina vacated and pulled his shirt over his head, wadding the black material up and tossing it at the little instigator.

Tris swore she could taste her heart in her mouth as Terry passed over a fresh shot and another lime wedge. Christina's hands were strong and warm on her shoulders, and the brunette hissed something ridiculous, something that clearly only she and the tequila thought were a good idea. Tris went with it anyway, having come this far, why settle for anything less than everything? She placed the lime between his teeth and her fingers accidently grazed the faint blond stubble of his jaw. She blushed, reflexive, as his eyes darkened and he somehow managed a sexy smirk around the ridiculous piece of acid green fruit in his mouth. Her hands shook so badly that she spilled a lot more salt over his neck and chest, and she needed a deep breath before she trusted herself to pick up the brimming glass of tequila. His hands on her hips were a surprise, warm and steady; they grounded her and made her bold. Her thigh nudged his knees apart and she stood between his legs, finally able to look down at the ridiculously attractive man who had somehow become an emblem of her new home and everything she was, everything she wanted to be. His fingers tightened on her as she balanced the shot on the crotch of his pants and somehow, steadying herself on the powerful muscles of his arms, dragged her tongue along the salty line of his clavicle and then took her shot, fingers swiping along the rough denim. He pulled her up to him before she could make a sound, mouth burning like Dauntless fire, and their lips met around the lime wedge. His hands were everywhere, her hips, her hair, and somehow he had spat the lime out and his tongue dragged along hers.

"Should I go?"

Christina's voice broke through the fog of alcohol and lust, but Eric pulled back only long enough to growl, "Fuck that," and drag her close.

She jostled Tris' shoulder as their bodies collided, arms twining around the blondes, big and little, and nuzzling against Tris' neck with a happy sigh. "I was hoping you'd say that." Christina confessed, tugging Tris' earlobe between her teeth.

There was touching everywhere, and Tris tilted her head back to let the dizzying sensations overwhelm her. There were lips and teeth everywhere, hands in her hair, under her shirt; she shuddered as hot heavy hands found a sensitive spot by her hip and stubble scraped her neck. "I think I need another drink," Speaking was hard, it felt like she needed everything just to breathe, to keep standing upright between these two impossible beautiful people.

"Right," Christina managed to stop her ministrations just enough to agree, scowl at the lascivious Peter, and give Eric an authoritative stare. "We should take this to your place"

Eric shrugged, as though this was a perfectly normal situation, a perfectly normal question. "Don't start anything you won't finish." He swung the stool around and stood, looming over the two women.

"Don't finish before we start!" Christina cackled, joke going over Tris' head but evidently finding its mark if Eric's scowl is anything to go by. She looped an arm around Tris' waist, toying with the strip of bare skin above her waistband and making her squirm. Hooking a finger through Eric's belt loop, she tugged imperiously and together they made their way out of the bar.


End file.
